


daydreams. (18+)

by royalsunshinehotel



Category: The Wedding Guest (2018)
Genre: F/M, but the reader is cool with it, it's smut, kidnapping mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:47:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29829285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/royalsunshinehotel/pseuds/royalsunshinehotel
Summary: YN gets hurt after tangling in a fight. Jay tries to make it better.
Relationships: Jay Menha/Reader, Jay/Reader, Jay/You





	daydreams. (18+)

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Jay’s still on the lamb post-TWG. YN got injured by some people chasing Jay, he’s concerned.

“If I could have let you go home I would have done it by now.” Jay’s sharp words don’t even register as you adjust your grip on the marble counter of your rented house. 

It’s a close call, and he’s deeply pissed off. You were a little confused because you’d avoided getting shot, and worse things could have happened than being dragged on highway pavement. No thoughts expanded beyond that, and maybe that was the best for now. You had a head injury after all. 

“You need to believe me when I tell you it’s not safe.” He’s got his hand supporting your neck, wiping blood grit from a vicious cut on the side of your face. He’d just stitched the gash, but you’d barely felt it. You can’t feel much of anything.

“Stay awake.” Your eyes half-open, looking at him. He’s focused on the cut, and you’re focused on how his hand feels supporting your neck. 

“I’m going to check your scalp.” You don’t seem upset which he finds unnerving. He wants to yell at you about how reckless you’d been, but it had all been his fault. 

There’s a moments pause, you slide a little on the mirror, but he catches you, readjusting you and massaging your scalp in silence. You hum into his touch, and it gives him pinpricks up his arms. The scalp was a sensitive area as it was, the contact likely didn’t help your condition, he rationalized. 

“When you were a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up?” You ask, trying to get the facts out of your mind.

He didn’t leave you.

You could have fallen asleep like this. 

“A doctor.” He replies quietly, running the pads of his long fingers on your hairline. You wouldn’t tell him that you weren’t surprised.

“How close did you get?” You wince when he hits a sore spot. He pulls back immediately, reaching for a cotton ball and something out of your vision.

“I was a medic in the army, I was supposed to go to med school after but the funding fell through.” That would make sense, the things he knew how to do would be limited to military. You wondered for a moment what happened with his med school funding. He’s clearly qualified.

“I’m sorry.”

He slowly rolls you forward. Putting his hands on your injured leg, you hiss as he lightly runs his now-bloody fingers over where the denim of your jeans had stuck to your road rash.

“I’m going to cut this back.” 

You blink down at yourself. The leg in question was hideous, and you tensed thinking of how bad it would be when he unstuck the fabric from your drying blood. You owed the jeans a debt, keeping you from losing even more blood than you already had, but holy hell you were filled with dread.

“This is going to hurt.” He’s curved himself around you while you sit on the counter, and you become painfully aware of how close his face is to yours. Was he trying to support you, or block you from running away. 

This face seems darker in the dim light of the bathroom, and still you forget how to breathe.

Your mind is slowed as he pulls you into a hard kiss, ripping the bloody fabric of your injured leg. The flash of pain is brutal, but he catches your scream in his mouth. 

You’d nearly jerked yourself off the counter, but he catches you there too. He always seems to catch you. The denim is gone, but he doesn’t let go, teasing your mouth open. 

Your head starts to buzz. It’s a trick, it has to be. He pulls away, cool as ever, yet your panting. 

“That wasn’t fair.” You whine. Stray tears had fallen under your eyes as the exposed, damaged skin of your leg began to swell and throb. 

“I know.” He takes two rough thumbs and wipes your eyes.

You hunch yourself forward, crossing your arms, pouting and shivering as he set to work cleaning your mostly-exposed leg. He either worked eerily fast, or you blacked out. He taps your leg to get your attention.

“YN.” You blink at him, and he shoves down a pang of panic. 

“YN.” He shakes you by your shoulders, you’re losing your grip. 

“I need to see your torso next.” His large hands move you back upright on the counter. You feel small. 

“You could have broken ribs.”

You let out a scoff, “is that all?” He scowls at you, and you feel his breath fanning out, setting your entire body on fire.

Jay keeps his breath even before he slowly positions himself between your legs, pulling your hips toward him. He keeps his mind clear as he starts running his hands over you methodically, pressing you gently, looking for a reaction. 

He finds a rhythm in a few seconds, and you lean your face into his shoulder, enjoying the contact.

He smells like smoke.

Your bruised knuckles get a tight grip on his t shirt, and he halts, hands on your lower back.

You press your nose into his neck slowly. Nothing. You press a kiss in between his jaw and his neck. Nothing. 

You slowly pepper small bites up and down his neck, getting harsher the more you worked. It’s hard not to get distracted by his beard. It’s soft.

You’re just trying to get a reaction, why wasn’t he moving?

Maybe you’re just being a brat, but you almost died today, a reaction was the least he could do for you.

You start tug at his earlobe with your teeth, and he digs his fingertips into your ass harshly. 

“Stop distracting me.” He hisses, pulling away from you abruptly. Your heart sinks. 

“You started it,” you shoot back. His face tightens. He shouldn’t have started what he couldn’t finish. Jay’s just a giant contradiction. 

Everything hurts except for him. Or maybe he’s the reason everything hurt.

You know what? Fuck Jay. Fuck this asshole who grabbed you out of a 7-11 parking lot. Fuck him and his stupid puppy dog eyes.

“I’m going home.” Something flickered across Jay’s face as you take a shaky hand and push him back. You hop off off the counter, determined to limp your way back to your crappy apartment two states over.

“How are you getting home?” He calls after you as the pain shoots up your leg.

“I’m walking!” You scream, likely not practical, as the lights in this house were off and you were hopping like some kind of injured bird.

“Your leg will get infected.” His voice rings from behind you, and with two steps, he’s got you in a tight grip. He’s warm and he’s strong and he wants to make things better, but he can’t. 

“Be a good and sit on the counter.” Pinpricks start to crawl on his skin again. He’s got your back flat against his chest, and he’s impressed that even after a day like this, you’re still trying to fight him.

You both grapple for a moment, but it ends with the two of you on the floor. He absorbs the impact, never wavering.

“I- Jay.” You drag out his name in a high-pitched whine. You were grinding your teeth. Maybe it was just the long day, maybe it was good to be held, but you were about to start crying and you couldn’t tell him why. 

“Tell me what you want.” His heart skips a beat when he realizes he could have worded that differently, but he didn’t want to.

You shake your head, leaning your forehead on the floor, hair falling in front of your face.

“I’m going to need words.” You don’t have any. There’s silence.

“Are you cold?” You don’t respond right away, you just roll onto you back and stare at the ceiling.

“Y-yeah.” 

Jay grit his teeth. He’s an idiot. He had no way of replacing the blood you’d lost, and, paired with the cold night, nothing was ideal. Time is of the essence.

“We’re getting up.” He’s scowling at you, trying to figure something out.

“No.” You narrow your eyes at him.

“Do as I say.” He growls, and you suddenly feel winded.

“No.”

Jay snaps, grabbing you by your neck harshly. His grip his firm, but his hand keeps your back on the floor. He clenches his jaw as he leans over you, mind spinning. 

You blink up at him, wanting to throw another fit.   
You gasp as he tightens his grip, taking advantage of his position, pulling you into a hot open-mouthed kiss. 

Jay hanging over you was too much, you’re a whimpering mess. he lets you grind your hips into him. 

He doesn’t seem to care, just biting and kissing your neck, looking for revenge. 

He moves his hand closer to your heart, keeping two fingers up to feel your racing pulse. Jay pulls back, letting you breathe for a moment, resting his forehead on yours. 

You were grateful you were laying on a carpet, not a hard floor. You shiver, and he pulls you in tighter. 

“We’re getting up.” He breathes shakily into your ear, and you glare.

Fucker. 

“That’s not fair!” You shove him in the chest, but he just catches your wrist. You wiggle more under him, but to no avail.

He picks you up like a bride and carries you back to where the two of you started. You’re leaning into his chest, comfortable, feelings of being pissed off slowly fading. You didn’t get far when you’d run before.

Jay carefully puts you down back on the counter, softly grazing the side of your face with his beard. He sets to work unbuttoning, and pulling off your shredded jeans. He’s keeping his hands in your view at all times.

But he gets on his knees, face square between your legs.

“Is this alright?” Maybe it was the blood loss, or the fact you were exhausted, but little knots of cold worked their way into your muscles. You couldn’t focus on that, you had to do yourself a favor and focus on him.

“Yeah.” Your voice is soft, and you swear he smiles at you. He doesn’t wait long after you say yes, licking a long swipe across your exposed heat.

His tongue focuses on your clit, “you’re soft.” 

Jay was wasting no time, circling against your clit again and again. He alternates, rubbing the rough pads of his fingers over you. Your legs start to quiver, so he smoothly sets them over his shoulders.

He runs his hands over your soft inner thigh, and you have to cover your mouth, using your other hand to grip a clump of dark hair. Then he sucks harshly, suddenly on you, and catches you as your hips buck into his mouth. He’s hot and focused against you. Your heels dig into his back.

But you’re practically silent. He doesn’t like that.

He pauses for a moment, reaching a long arm up to take your hand from your mouth. He holds your purple hand for a moment. 

The way you’d punched that man from earlier … Jay was shocked that you had zero hesitation. He’d have to show you how to make a proper fist tomorrow.

“Who are you trying to be quiet for?”

If you were being logical, you’d go to bed at that moment, yet you were still desperate for more contact. You’re too empty. You look down at him, and start to play with a stray curl sticking up.

Once more, he digs a hand into your good leg, treating your injured leg gently, while he sucks on you.

“Jay,” you drag out his name in a thin whine, your head falling back. You feel him shudder and groan against you, sound vibrating against your shivering legs.

His soft beard set sparks up the soft skin of your thighs, palming your. He’s holding back. 

Breathing for a moment, Jay ran his hands over your legs, “Fucking wet. Jesus.” Moaning, you feebly tried to move your hips, vaguely feeling Jay hook them, pressing against a spot that made your vision go blurry.

Your grip on his hair tightens, but he continues a few more times, pairing rough licks to your clit. The obscene sucking and sipping noises echoing in your ears.

Before you could register, your fall apart on his tongue, legs shaking. A handful of curses fall out of your mouth, muscles relaxing as you sigh onto him. He’s taking mental notes, you can see it in his eyes.

He presses a few kisses against the inside of your legs, grazing his beard against the skin. You lean your head back, feeling his hands graze your feet.

He’s frowning, your feet weren’t circulating as they should be.

“Still cold?” He blinks up from between your legs, you’re still catching your breath.

“A little.” You give him a half smile as he stands up, and steps over to turn the water to the shower on. He turns back to you, face neutral, picking you up from the counter, and dropping your feet into the shower.

He undoes his own pants, revealing black boxers and long legs. Your knees feel more shaky looking at him.

You’re worried for a moment about keeping your balance, but he steps in right behind you, keeping you upright as, with an arm around your waist, he grabs a bar of soap. You relax against him as his hand goes up your wet shirt, slowly and methodically cleansing your skin.

“Alright?” He asks, leaning his face into your shoulder. You can feel the crease between his eyebrow deepen. His hair’s pushed forward, you want to laugh at the fact that he’s taller than the shower head, but you’re distracted.

“Yeah.” You sigh, closing your eyes. The little knots of cold dissolve with the heat and pressure, and you feel alright. Jay was carefully applying soap, much to your displeasure. He was the closest you had to a doctor, so you couldn’t quite complain.

Or maybe you could.

Slowly, using his shoulders for balance, you turn to face him, water hitting the both of you, feeling like a blanket.

You reach up and push his dark hair out of his face.

You hook your hands underneath your shirt and remove it, you register a sharp inhale, and his pupil’s dilating. 

His jaw drops slightly, and it feels like you’d been knocked over. He rights his face almost immediately, but you saw what you saw.

“Off?” You ask, politely, sending a pang to his heart. You’re tired down to your bones, one-word questions are all you have.

He smiles at you, and a bolt of heat blossoms in your chest. You let your hands wander under his shirt, feeling how muscular he is and humming happily. He pulls off his wet shirt, discarding it off to the side, and leans down to kiss you.

He puts his lips on you slowly, taking your lower lip between his teeth and tugging it softly. You melt into him, and he catches you, because of course he does. He sucks on your lips sweetly, you wrinkle your nose as his beard tickles you.

You move his large hands down to your rear, and you hook your good leg around him, letting your injured leg hang freely. He takes your weight with little to no effort, balancing you against the cold shower wall.

You’re throbbing at this point, and he does nothing. You can’t tell what he’s thinking, your face is pressed into his shoulder, hands digging into his back.

Nothing.

“About today,” He breathes, your eyes go round, “don’t pull that shit again,” he attempts to even his breathe, “when I say run, you run.”

“Jay, please.” Your about to burst into tears or pass out, you try to grind against him, but his grips too strong

“Promise me.” He states, voice buzzing in your ear.

“I promise.”

He pushes into you, his stretch makes you scratch at his back, turning into something feral. 

You’re officially a mess, gasping his name (or the one he’d told you at least). 

He’s buried his face into the crook of your neck. You’re determined to keep grinding your hips, feeling his breathing get progressively sharper because of you.

You tighten your grip because at any moment it feels like you’re going to evaporate, and he’s not helping, lifting your further up and thrusting harsher and quicker. He supports you as you bare down, falling apart.

He puts his hands on you, either to help you with the fall, or check to make sure you weren’t going to pass out, but he shifts.

You gasp into his ear as he sinks his teeth into your shoulder. For a moment he feels bad, you were banged up today, he shouldn’t be doing this to you, but the feeling fades when he sees the mark on your skin.

Jay’s shaking, and you register a growl, low and deep, as he let go, one arm on the tiled wall for support.

It’s primal nonsense, but he doesn’t care.

He pulls out of you slowly, so you could feel just how hot he was for you. The water in your eyes leaves your vision blurry, but you feel him press a kiss into your temple. His hand moves back to the side of your throat, supporting you as you lean into him.

Slowly, he puts you back on the ground.

“Better?” He asks.

“Better.” You reply, eyes closed.

He moves aside, letting the water wash him off you. His hand stays on your forearm. If you feel in the shower and broke something, he couldn’t help.

Your heart falls as he leans forward to turn off the water.

Jay carefully takes a clean towel and pats you down, careful not to disturb the already-forming scabs on your leg. 

He doesn’t worry about himself so much, you’d have to have a conversation with him about that.

He kneels down slightly, taking a solid grip on you. 

A few paces through the kitchen, and you’re in your bedroom. He leans back and lets you down into an unmade bed, you wiggle right in to place. 

He digs out a random hoodie and slides it over you quickly, putting on a pair of grey sweats for himself.

You watch him stare at you for a moment, but he doesn’t say anything. As he turns to leave, you grab his hand, and give him the saddest face he’d ever fucking seen.

He can’t say no to you. 

He’s an idiot.

Jay sets his alarm for 2 hours. He’s going to be checking your brain function all night. It’s more of a guideline, and he had to let himself be optimistic. If you’d been concussed, he’d have to take you to a hospital. 

He’d have to let you go.

Jay holds his breath for a moment as you settle on to his chest. You’re fucking exhausted and you have every right to be. He’d been trained for this type of environment, and you weren’t. 

He lets himself think for a moment about how things would be if you’d met any other way. Literally any other than you seeing him kill a man in a parking lot.

Daydreams are dangerous.


End file.
